


Color My World

by Maggiemaye



Category: Scorpion (TV 2014)
Genre: Babies, Christmas Fluff, F/M, Gen, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Mentions of Grace - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-12
Updated: 2016-12-12
Packaged: 2018-09-08 01:31:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8824804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maggiemaye/pseuds/Maggiemaye
Summary: For right now, just a few minutes out of one night, he and Happy seemed to be in sync.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [southernbookgirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/southernbookgirl/gifts).



> Merry Christmas, Leah! I really hope this was the type of fluff you had in mind. When I was writing this I listened to "That's Christmas to Me" by Pentatonix because that song makes me cry. So if it enhances your reading experience, that would be good mood music. Of course, the classic Chicago song that inspired the title would also be a good choice :) I hope you enjoy your holidays and I'm so glad we met this year!

_December 25th, 1987_

  
“Come on, baby,” Patrick pleaded, bouncing his wailing daughter around the room. “Come on, it’s okay. It’s Christmas, baby, don’t cry.”

  
If anything, Patrick thought his words were just pissing Happy off more. Her tiny face was scrunched with the effort of screaming so loudly; tears rolled down her cheeks and dampened her red collar. The neighbors would probably be knocking on the door any minute telling him to shut the kid up, just like they did at least once a week. Squeezing his eyes shut, he stroked Happy’s soft hair and bounced her in his arms a little more.

  
For the millionth time, Patrick wondered what would be happening if Grace were there. She could have balanced his terrible parenting skills, he was sure of it. Of course she would have been great with kids. She would have given Happy a real name, a real home. This was only Happy’s first Christmas, but Patrick was sure she could feel her mother’s absence and his own failures.

  
This was a familiar process of thought for him. In fact, now was usually about the point in his thoughts when Patrick reached for a beer. But he’d promised himself, and Happy, that it wouldn’t happen tonight. Not on Christmas.

  
“Happy,” he whispered, kissing the top of her head as she cried. “Please be happy, baby.”

  
Patrick didn’t notice how close he was getting to the Christmas tree until Happy went still and made a hiccuping sound. It took him a moment to register what she was looking at--his ears were still ringing from her shrieks--but when he looked down, her eyes were laser focused on the branch right in front of her.

  
He hadn’t sprung for a big tree, or even a green one. It was just a skinny one made of tinsel, balanced on a rickety stand. A few weeks ago he had strung some lights on the branches while Happy watched from her bouncy chair. She had laughed and Patrick had taken her picture; it had been one of their better nights. Now, the lights cast a colorful glow on her wide eyes and tear-streaked cheeks.

  
Happy reached a chubby hand out toward the branch, clearly enthralled by the blue light on the end. Patrick watched as she sniffled a few more times, but the look on her face had changed. She made a little sound and stretched forward; Patrick carried her close enough to touch. Soon the branch, light bulb and all, was captured in her small fist, and Patrick gently pried her fingers away before she could tug the whole tree over.

  
“You like that, huh?”

  
Happy flashed him a big smile, and for a second Patrick didn’t feel like the worst father in the world anymore.

  
“Well, check this out, baby.” He kissed her nose, letting her giggle pierce right through to his heart, and lowered her to lie on the floor. Patrick got down quickly to lie flat beside her, positioned on his stomach with one hand on Happy’s belly to keep her in place.

  
Both their heads were underneath the Christmas tree. From this angle the branches blocked out the rest of Patrick’s cramped living room, a shield from so many grim realities he could never seem to escape. Next to him, Happy kicked her feet and reached up to grab at a yellow bulb glinting through the stringy silver branches. Patrick wiped a stray tear from her cheek--the last remaining trace of her earlier meltdown. She had a look of intense concentration, a tiny bit of a smile still frozen in place, and Patrick wondered what was going on in her head. He wondered if he’d ever know. But for right now, just a few minutes out of one night, he and Happy seemed to be in sync.

  
“Merry Christmas, baby,” he whispered to her, leaning over to kiss her hair as she watched the lights wink down.

 

* * *

 

  
_December 25, 2017_

  
Happy had to admit, it had been a good call to go for the colorful lights. Toby had argued that they were just more festive than plain white; if they were going to have a big Christmas tree that year, it had to have colorful lights.

  
“Lights are lights, do what you want,” Happy had told him with a shrug. Now, she was glad. It made the view from the floor much more vibrant.

  
Toby had left for the garage a while ago; he’d forgotten his hat and insisted on going back to get it after dropping Happy off at their apartment. She hadn’t had a quiet moment all day--family Christmas was exhausting and loud, she was discovering--so it was a relief to be home, by herself, looking up at their Christmas tree from the floor. She’d never heard of anyone else doing this; when Patrick had told her about it she’d listened politely while thinking it was weird. But in actuality, it was turning out to be a nice way to let her mind wander.

  
It was safe to say that Happy’s holidays now were nothing like the lonely ones she’d had as a child. She had grown up believing this life was closed to her, that friends and a fiance and a big Christmas tree were not things she would ever have. She had been wrong, though, clearly. Her family had grown so much.

  
Happy placed a hand on her stomach. Next year, they would get to make space for one more.

  
“We’re going to come clean tonight, baby,” she said into the empty room. “Although your dad probably already suspects that you’re in there. He knows about this stuff. He’s annoying, but you’ll like him.”

  
Happy swallowed hard. The lights in the branches became blurred with tears, but she didn’t think they were sad tears. Not like so many Christmases past.

  
“You’ll love him, baby. And he’ll love you so much, just like I do.” She rubbed a hand over her stomach, wondering when she would start to feel the stirrings of life there. She’d seen the tests and confirmed without a doubt that she was pregnant, and she had even started having a touch of morning sickness, but it didn’t quite feel real to her yet. Her own mother was a mythical figure; aside from Paige, the only image Happy had of motherhood was pictures and videos of Grace. It was a big dream to live up to.

  
Happy wondered if Grace had ever spoken to her like this during her pregnancy, hoping that Happy might hear.

  
“Just don’t tell Dad we had this conversation, okay?” she whispered, swiping at tears. “We have another seven or so months to be sappy with him. This one’s just for us.”

  
She patted her stomach, feeling silly even though no one was watching her. Anticipation flew through her nerve endings as she waited, letting the silence stretch until Toby got home.

  
“Hey Hap--uh, Happy’s feet.” Toby sounded bewildered as he greeted her. “What’s up?”

  
“Just come down here.”

  
“Okay,” he said warily, lowering himself to the floor and groaning through every bend and twist it took to get there. Eventually he scooted himself so that his head was next to Happy’s under the tree.

  
“Why are we on the floor?”

  
“My dad said he and I did this when I was little. Lie on the floor and look up at the lights in the branches. He said I couldn’t stop staring at them.”

  
“Hm. Well, now that I’m down here, it’s kind of nice. Cozy, in fact.”

  
Toby smiled at her. Happy couldn’t help but gaze back at him, not that she’d really been trying to stop herself. The soft line of his chin, the freckles spread across his nose and cheeks--all of the features that were so familiar to her, bathed in warm light.

  
“I’m pregnant.”

  
She said it quietly. Toby had reached up to touch a green bulb; at her statement, he let his hand dangle in the air as he turned toward her.

  
“What?”

  
“You heard me, Doc.”

  
The look of wide-eyed shock seemed frozen on his face.

  
“We made a baby? A real one?”

  
She had to smile at that. “Yes. Not a cadmium one this time.”

  
“A non-cadmium baby,” he murmured in awe. “We’re gonna have a kid. Happy, I--”

  
He broke off to kiss her. It was a clumsy lunge across the tree stand that resulted in more of a face-smash than a kiss. But Happy leaned into it, bringing her palm to rest on his scruffy cheek.

  
“I love you so much,” Toby said through an incredulous laugh. “I can’t believe...next year we’re going to have a baby running around.”

  
“Yep. Little Meriwether.”

  
He shot her a look. “Yes, ha ha. You know, I never thought I’d say this to you, but is now really the best time for jokes?”

  
“What can I say, Doc?” Now that Happy had started smiling, she was finding it hard to stop. “It’s a merry Christmas.”

  
“The merriest Christmas of my life,” he agreed, looking at her in that soft way she’d come to love. “For now.”

  
“Yeah.” She reached for his hand and placed it on her stomach, watching his face light up. “For now.”


End file.
